


leave tonight, or live and die this way

by smoothniallsmooth



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anger, Angry Sex, Angst, Blowjobs, Bondage, Bottom!Harry, Crossdressing, Crossdressing Kink, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Fighting, M/M, Sex Toys, Slight Pain Kink, Smut, butt plug, confusing sex positions, fun lube, its probably not actually possible, little bit of spanking not really, lots and lots and lots of orgasms, not really its kind of just mentioned, overstimluation, slight D/s, some riding, some rimming, top!Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:11:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoothniallsmooth/pseuds/smoothniallsmooth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their relationship is fucked up. It's like someone took a white sheet of paper and scribbled all over it with a bright red crayon to the point of no return.</p><p>Harry is always the one to try and soothe their furious fights, always the first to apologize. Every time he would try and wait for Louis to do so, they would go days without saying a word to each other, and it's impossible to live in a tiny apartment with someone and not talk to them. Suffocating.</p><p>It's either that, or Louis would come for a shag and consider it an apology without ever actually saying sorry. </p><p> </p><p>(or, the one where louis and harry have relationship problems and lots and lots of angry sex)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the weak description but ive been slaving over this fic for like four days just editing and i just need to get it up. anyway, this is gonna be a three-parter and most of the fun kinky stuff is in the second part WHICH we wont be posting til i finish all the editing on that one. however theres still smut and fighting and angsty fluff in this first part. also may include angry sex, blowjobs, slight d/s, and daddy kink !!!
> 
> title is from fast car by tracy chapman..beautiful song.

A loud bang echoes throughout Louis and Harry's shared apartment as Harry slams his fist onto the marble counter with force, a puff of air leaving his mouth as he hears his boyfriend coming down the hall. Harry spins around, his eyes darting past Louis' approaching figure to see he has carelessly thrown his jacket on the arm of the couch.

He doesn't need to look to know he's done it though, only to confirm. It's the same thing every day.

"Pick up your fucking coat," Harry growls, anger striking his eyes. It's not only the coat, it's his keys, his clothing, his empty bottles, everything. Every day. And he knows, knows it drives Harry batshit bloody mad.

Louis rolls his eyes and strolls to the fridge, pulling out a beer bottle and twisting the cap off, taking a sip before he speaks.

 "It's not like it's on the fucking floor. Get over it, princess."

Harry rips the bottle from his grasp, slamming it down on the counter and forcing a few drops to slosh onto the marble.

"I fucking work my ass off to keep this place halfway clean, and you come home every fucking day and throw your shit everywhere and I've fucking had it!" Harry shouts, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis before lowering his voice in an attempt to remain calm. "So, please, pick up your coat."

"It's on the goddamn chair! Why do you even care? It's not like someone is going to walk though the door and say 'Oh, there's a jacket on that chair, I bet these people live in filth!'" Louis snorts, crossing his arms over his chest

"How hard is it for you to walk over ten fucking feet and hang it on the hook for god's sake? Fuck you," Harry spits, shoving past Louis roughly and picking up the coat, opening the front door and throwing the jacket into the hallway before storming down the hall to the bedroom, slamming the door with such force that it shook the entire apartment.

Louis glares at their bedroom door as he goes to retrieve his jacket, picking it off the floor and slamming the front door closed as an abrupt wave of anger washes over him. Harry has no fucking right to throw his stuff around like that.

Harry twists the lock on the door and stands with his back against it, letting out a shaky sigh and attempting to relax his muscles before he breaks every glass item in the room. Louis is a fucking asshole, there's no denying that. He would rather live in filth than do little things like wash his dish after dinner, or sweep the floor when Harry ask him to, or even hang up his damn coat when he gets home from work. Harry does everything, cooks, cleans, handles the bills, does all the shopping. And Louis sits on his ass in an office all day only to come home and fuck up everything Harry tries to keep orderly. It's not only the messes though. It's the bills, Louis' way of handling things, the insults, the arguments, everything. Louis throwing his shit around only adds fuel to the fire.

Their relationship is fucked up. It's like someone took a white sheet of paper and scribbled all over it with a bright red crayon to the point of no return.

Louis stomps back to the kitchen and rips the beer bottle off the counter, lifting it to his lips and allowing the cool liquid to run down his throat in gulps despite the bitter taste and burn of the carbonation. Louis' pissed now, he has to work his ass off at work all day in a shit office with morons and stuffy cubicles only to come home and be berated by his clean freak nag of a boyfriend.

Harry slides his back down the wooden door until his bum hits the floor, burying his head in his knees. Louis is the laziest, stubbornest, most self-absorbed asshole he's ever met and every second of every day he questions what he'd ever seen in him in the first place. He's gorgeous, it has to be a relationship based solely on sexual chemistry, because his attractive looks are the only quality he holds.

Louis leans against the sink as he finishes off his beer, setting the bottle by the silver stainless steel sink, an agitated sigh leaving his lips. Louis doesn't know why he stays in this flat, he makes enough money that he could get his own where he can be as messy, lazy, and rude as he wants without a curly haired man with a stick in his ass telling him otherwise.

Harry stands, unlocking the door and resting his fingers on the knob, considering whether or not to go back out and get back on speaking terms with his boyfriend. Harry is always the one to try and soothe their furious fights, always the first to apologize. Every time he would try and wait for Louis to do so, they would go days without saying a word to each other, and it's impossible to live in a tiny apartment with someone and not talk to them. Suffocating.

It's either that, or Louis would come for a shag and consider it an apology without ever actually saying sorry.

Louis is now halfway through his second beer, a scowl on his face as he thinks over how this fight is going to end. Harry's either going to come apologize, or Louis would have to go fuck him into oblivion and make sure he knows that he is allowed to do whatever the fuck he would like to in the home he pays for.

Louis isn't one to talk about feelings and the emotional shit-storms.

Harry twists the knob of the bedroom door, slowly making his way down the hallway and stopping outside the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe and staring at Louis as he downs a beer. Harry rolls his eyes, pushing past Louis without sparing a glance his way and picking up the empty beer bottle on the side of the sink. With an emphasized note of finality, he picks it up, rinses it, and thrusts it into the recycling bin with a loud angry crash.

Louis doesn't even flinch when the glass breaks, just finishes off his beer and sets that one next to the sink before swiping another from the fridge. Harry's jaw tenses as he stares at the bottle, his fingers desperately gripping the edge of the counter.

"Are you fucking serious?" he growls.

"I'll get it when I'm done," Louis hisses, gulping down a third of the beer he holds.

The condensation runs down the skin of his palm, cold and wet.

Harry huffs, releasing the counter and exiting the room once again, collapsing onto the couch and massaging his temples. Louis rolls his eyes as he follows after Harry, leaning on the wall with a hand in his pocket as he looks over at his boyfriend.

"What?" Harry asks bluntly, not glancing at Louis as his eyes burn into the side of his head. He remembers the days when they first got together, staying up late just talking, making out on the couch like teenagers, actually saying I love you once in a while. And he isn't even sure if he misses it or not.

"Why is it such a big deal to you?" Louis questions, lifting the bottle up to his lips.

"Because you don't help, if I didn't clean this place we would live in a fucking pigsty. And then I ask you to lift a finger and all you do is try to piss me off further. Why do you do that?" Harry asks, his voice growing exasperated.

"Because a coat on a fucking chair and a bottle on the counter isn't a fucking big deal!" Louis yells, slamming the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"It's not like I'm making you scrub the fucking floors! The least you could do is put your goddamn bottle in the recycling bin. Imagine how deep of a shithole we would be in if I didn't fucking do all this! If I didn't do the bills, we would get thrown out to the streets. It's not like you fucking bother to pay attention to any of that shit! Why do I fucking stay here, I would be ten times better off on my own!" Harry screams, abruptly standing from the couch.

"Then why don't you fucking leave, huh?" Louis asked, his voice raising above Harry's as he got in his face.

He's actually panicking inside, but he won't dare show it.

"If I don't pay attention to anything why don't you just fucking leave?" he repeats, his voice a menacing snarl.

"Because you would probably end up buried in your own fucking filth!" Harry shouts, roughly shoving Louis out of his face with a disbelieving scoff.

Louis is breathing heavily though his nose, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

"Don't you fucking shove me," he screams, anger pulsing through his veins.

"Why not? You just walk around and do whatever the fuck you want, so why can't I?" Harry retorts, his jaw tense. Louis growls and charges towards Harry, closing what little space is between them and pushing him against the nearest wall with his arms pinned to his sides.

"Because I fucking said so," Louis hisses, he's shorter than Harry but much more intimidating.

"God fucking dammit!" Harry screeches, his voice breaking. He's going to give in, he's going to cave and Louis is going to get his way the same as he always does every single time. "I'm leaving, I'm staying at my parents' tonight." His voice is quieter this time, letting his head fall back against the wall and staring at the ceiling.

"No. You're not," Louis states, Harry's shoulder blades digging into the drywall. Harry growls, attempting to tear his wrists from Louis' grasp.

"It's not up to you," he states, his voice deep and gravelly.

"Yes, I think it is," Louis says, his knee sliding between Harry's legs to pin him in place. Harry inhales shakily, fighting the urge to cry. He knows where this is going. Louis attaches his lips to Harry's neck as he begins to nibble and bite, making Harry squirm.

"Stop it, I don't want to fucking have sex with you," Harry growls, his breathing becoming shaky. Because it will only make him stay with Louis longer.

"Yes, you do, you want me to lay you down on the bed, spread your legs open and make you take my cock, maybe open you up my tongue or fingers first," Louis whispers seductively, moving his knee to press into Harry's crotch. Harry feels the blood rush straight to his dick, giving up on trying to push Louis off of him. Just one more time, he'd leave in the morning.

"Yeah, that's right, you love when I take control, love being spread out and bare, full of cock," Louis hisses, his teeth dragging against Harry's neck.

"Fuck," he breathes, letting his head fall to the side to give Louis better access as he leaves bruise after bruise on his neck. Louis smirks against the younger boy's skin, pulling back and staring at Harry with hooded, lust-filled eyes.

"Lets take this to the bedroom," Louis offers, but they both know it's more of an order. Harry nods, whimpering when Louis grinds their clothed dicks together in one swift motion before releasing him from the wall.

Louis takes his hand and pulls Harry down the hall and into their shared bedroom, shoving him against the door abruptly as he connects their lip in a messy, wet kiss. Harry entangles his fingers in Louis' hair, pulling gently at it as Louis presses their tongues together in an open mouthed kiss. Louis' fingers are gripping Harry's waist hard enough to leave bruises and it's turning the younger boy on more than it should.

Harry pulls Louis as close as he can by the hair, accidentally knocking teeth with him as he tilts his head.

"Clothes off now," Louis commands, pulling back from Harry to tug off his own shirt. Harry pants heavily, yanking his t-shirt over his head and tossing it carelessly to the carpet before moving to unbutton his jeans and push them to his ankles. Louis is on him the second he's left standing in his boxers, his hands on the boy's bum while their lips mold together. This is the thing, the two despise each other so much yet fit together so perfectly. Sex is the only aspect of their relationship in which they show any sorts of affection, the last quivering string stretching on the seam.

Harry pushes his tongue between Louis' lips, pressing it against his as he runs his hands down Louis' bare chest. Louis pulls away to drag Harry to the bed, pushing him down on his back before he rips off his jeans and climbs on top of the boy spread across the bed, panting. Harry's hands move straight to Louis' muscular back, ready to scratch it raw.

Louis begins to grind against the panting boy, feels him claw at his back as he presses his lips to a forming bruise from earlier. A moan erupts deep from Harry's throat, his hips bucking up from the mattress.

"Let me suck you," he pants, _pleads_ , slipping his fingers into the band of Louis' boxers just enough to drag him into temptation rather than refusing the request just to spite him.

"Mm, alright baby," Louis whispers, rolling them over so their positions are switched and Harry's on top of him with his jaw already slack. He presses a soft kiss to his boyfriend's lips before slithering down the length of his body, taking the fabric of his boxers between his teeth and pulling them down just enough to reveal the smooth jut of Louis' hip bones. He pulls the rest down with his hands, freeing Louis' pulsing erection. Harry eagerly laps up the precome beading at the tip, dipping his tongue into the slit. And Louis' so gone for it, dominating Harry just the way he likes him to, his fingers threading through Harry's curls and forcing him down, tip of his nose skating south until his lips graze the base and precome is sliding down the shell of his ear.

Harry's always wanting to be controlled, restrained, kept on edge. He's absolutely gagging for it, lets Louis _choke_  him with cock any chance he gets. He gets a kick out of not only from being fucked, but being full. Cock in his mouth, arse, his need to be stretched by any means by Louis is insatiable, it's puzzling really.

He licks and sloppily up and down Louis' thick length, lets it get messy before he actually takes him in. By the time he's progressed to gently suckling at the tip Louis' got spit dripping down his shaft in multiple places, wet and sticky and hot.

Harry begins to really focus then, because Louis' tugging at his hair, not roughly enough to jostle his head away, but enough to burn with demand and show what he wants. It's a warning.

Harry takes him by the inch, sheathing his teeth with a swift curl of his lips and only pausing to hollow his cheeks, bob, suck. Louis' cursing above him, marveling at the way Harry had his hands clasped obediently behind his back and he doesn't even fucking realize it, it's instinct. Once Harry's halfway down, he wastes no time in relaxing his muscles and sliding down, down, feeling Louis hit the back of his throat and then some. The older boy bucks up instinctively, causing Harry to sputter, the very slightest of noises, a stream of saliva escaping the corner of his mouth and skating down what little of Louis' length is still exposed to the air.

Harry has to pull off, inhale a deep breath of air, before sinking back down abruptly until he feels Louis pass the barrier of his throat once again. He relishes in the throaty moan he earns from above him, takes it as praise. He repeats that move, over and over, sliding up until he's only nursing the tip before guiding himself all the way down and taking Louis so deep he's gagging, choking on it.

And he can feel it, the twitch of Louis' cock in his mouth and it's over all too soon. Louis yanks him upwards by the hair before he can allow himself to spill down Harry's throat.

"Enough," he growls, releasing Harry's head from beneath his cramping fingers. The boy whines, his lips swollen and wet with drool dripping from his chin and gorgeous pupils blown wide. His lashes are webbed and matted with moisture, the whites of his eyes emphasized by red rimmed lids. Louis presses three fingers against Harry's swollen, parted lips, urging him. He wastes no time, eagerly taking them into his mouth with haste.

He's so keen on pleasing Louis, he's always working so hard to make him happy, and that's. That's it, that's why it's so frustrating when Louis shits all over his assiduous work. It's like Harry's not good enough.

Louis fucks into Harry's mouth with his fingers, the walls echoing with filthy, heavy wet noises as he repeats the same action. Spit, spread, slurp. He's scissoring them as if he's opening him up, Harry tonguing at the sharp v of the crevices each time.

And Harry's so, so hard just from having his mouth full, just from the sore heaviness of his jaw and the sharp sting of his throat.

"Please, please, _daddy_ ," he whines, the words exiting muffled and hardly coherent, yet Louis understands. And like, Harry just. Called him daddy.

His wet lashes flutter in desperation, tears openly rolling down his cheeks from the gagging stress on his throat and leaving hot wet streaks in their wake.

"Come up here, baby," Louis commands, firm authority clear behind the soft tone of his voice. Harry's more than happy to pull off of Louis' fingers, a thin string of spit stretching between his lips. He crawls upwards, his quivering elbows folding on Louis' chest.

His clothed cock drags on his thigh, and what little sweet, sweet friction he's given through his boxers has him whimpering desperately.

Louis chuckles darkly and slides his hand down Harry's pale back, teasing. He traces each knot of his spine individually with the tip of his spit-slick index finger, leaving thin rings of saliva circling each jutting bone. He presses into the dip of his back, and Harry knows not to utter a sound or Louis will only delay him further. But he wants to, he wants to whine and cry and beg Louis to give him what he wants.

He's silent, only jagged breaths escaping his lips as his cheek rests against Louis' chest, listening to the erratic beats of his heart.

And finally, Louis slides his hand underneath the band of his boxers, dipping a wet finger into his crack and sliding downward. He presses the spit-slick finger against Harry's rim, pushing only enough to feel the muscles flutter underneath it.

"Just...f-fuck," Harry dares to utter, stretching his neck to reattach their mouths and take Louis' bottom lip between his teeth. He can't help but beg, he needs him to do something, _anything_ , before he ends up coming untouched, and unsatisfied, in his pants.

"What do you say?" Louis pries, letting the tip of his finger rest, unmoving, inside Harry's rim.

"Please. Want it so bad," he sputters, attempting to wiggle his bum and take Louis' finger himself. His efforts only earn him a sharp smack on his bum with Louis' free hand. It's more of a pat than anything else, but still enough to knock the wind straight from Harry's lungs.

"Daddy. Please daddy," he whimpers. He's never even addressed him this way before, but knowing Louis' computer password and stumbling, yeah stumbling, on his porn history had come in handy.

And Louis' not asking questions.

He chuckles, easing his finger in to the second knuckle. Harry keens, his hips stuttering against Louis' thigh. That gets him another slap.

"I'll fuck you now," Louis whispers. Harry doesn't have to look to see the smirk curling on his lips, he can hear it mixing with his words. He opens his mouth to say yes, encourage it, but Louis isn't done.

"But you won't come. I'll get off, and you can find a way to get rid of yours yourself."

Harry's shoulders sink at that, nearly choking on a sob. That sounds awful, and Louis isn't bluffing. He's done it before.

"Or," he begins again, the cold fear creeping up Harry's spine withering once the word reaches his ears. "You can be patient...and _still_ , and I'll let you get off too."

"I'll be patient. Daddy, please, I'll be good, I wanna come, please," he rambles incessantly. Louis nods in approval, wedging in a second finger and really beginning his assault. His digits sink in and out, fast and deep, and he has Harry panting on top of him before he's even three fingers deep. He lets out a deep, guttural moan, and he wants to scream _more, more, more_  but he's too afraid Louis will accuse him of being impatient.

"Such a slut," Louis chuckles, slipping in a third finger, stabbing them in hard and fast. Harry's eyes flutter shut and he bites his lip, knitting his eyebrows together as Louis works him open, little sounds escaping his lips. Louis' own cock is hard again, flushed pink and beading precome from the tip.

"I want your cock," Harry mumbles courageously, pushing his bum back in the slightest of motions, desperate for more.

"You'll get it," Louis promises, thankfully letting the act of neediness slide. He pulls his fingers out momentarily, making Harry whine. He whimpers again at the empty feeling, fighting the urge to replace Louis' fingers with his own.

"Lay on your back," Louis demands as he pushes Harry off of him to grab the lube from the nightstand drawer. Harry eagerly does as he's told, a shock of arousal shooting through his belly. He slips off his boxers and strokes himself lazily as he waits for his boyfriend to sit back up with the lube.

"No," Louis growls, grabbing Harry's hands and pinning them above his head by the wrists with one hand as the other pops the lid of the lube. He drizzles a generous amount along his length, taking his time in spreading it over. Harry doesn't whine or whimper, despite the throbbing pain in his cock that he desperately needs to be relieved.

He waits patiently, his breath coming out in short, needy pants as he watches Louis slick up his cock. Louis grins down at the half-wrecked boy and clambers over him, lines up with his entrance, and then he's sinking inside, watching himself disappear into Harry. He doesn't spare the boy any time to adjust before he's pulling out to pound back in.

Harry lets out a strangled moan, pain and pleasure mixing into one erotic feeling in the pit of his stomach. His hands fly to Louis' back, nails digging into the skin and legs wrapping around his middle. Louis head is bowed as he thrusts into Harry, watching the boy rock and react to his every move.

Harry scrapes his blunt nails down his back, leaving angry red marks in his skin. Claiming him.

Louis pulls back and wraps a hand around Harry's thigh, hitching it up and over his shoulder before doing the same to the other leg, so he can go deeper. Little gasps and whimpers leave Harry's mouth as he does so, feeling Louis' cock pounding against his prostate perfectly with each thrust.

"Fuck," Louis curses, the sound of skin on skin making driving him mad with how fucking hot it sounds. Harry's hands travel to Louis' hair, and he can't stop touching, his fingers tangling into it as he yanks harshly, uncontrollable moans coming from his lips. Louis' rocking his body forward with the force of each deep thrust, not holding back and giving him everything he needs. Harry keeps murmuring under his breath like he always does, little breathy mumblings that are completely incoherent save for the occasional _harder, fuck, daddy_.

And Harry's clenched so hard around him, his head thrown back against the headboard and neck just beckoning for Louis to mark him up. He stretches foreword, his thrusts still unrelenting as his nips the skin of Harry's collarbone between his teeth, testing the waters. When Harry doesn't come at the slightest touch, including the way his hard cock was now sliding against Louis' belly, he wraps his lips around the skin.

He feels the jut of his collarbone directly between his lips, sucking and nipping and licking over the same spot until he's satisfied with the color of the forming bruise. He's just about to go in for another when Harry tenses and clenches around him, _hard_ , and his mumbling abruptly dissolved into loud moans. And then he's coming, slicking both him and Louis' belly with his release. Louis vision darkens for a second as Harry's clenched hard and tight around him, practically milking his orgasm out of him. With one more quick thrust he comes, spilling himself inside Harry with a quiet moan. Harry's still riding through the aftershock, head thrown back in pure ecstasy, bumping his forehead against the headboard. Louis rides out both their highs, panting hard.

When his cock is fully soft he pulls out, and the entire atmosphere changes, because shit. It happened, it happened again.

Harry immediately snaps out of his lust-filled state, abruptly standing and running a hand over his face. Louis watches from the bed as Harry paces around, seeing the come drip from his hole and slide down his thighs in thick translucent white ribbons. He bites back a smirk and another hard on.

"Fuck," Harry says through clenched teeth, striding towards the door and stepping into the hall, walking across to the bathroom and twisting on the shower. He let him do it. Again.

Louis sits up and shakes his head free of his sweaty fringe, pushing off the bed and going into the kitchen for another drink.

Harry steps underneath the searing hot water and scrubs himself raw, cursing himself as he does so. When he finally feels like he's able to face his boyfriend, he shuts the water off and steps out of the shower, wiping himself down with a towel before wrapping it around his waist and shaking his hair free of water.

By the time Harry is out of the shower Louis has downed an entire beer and is now nursing a second. And still completely, beautifully naked as he sits on and dirties the countertop.

Harry wanders into the kitchen in a black t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, walking past Louis without sparing him a glance as he opens the fridge and takes a bottle of beer for himself from the shelf.

Louis' tongue flicks out to wet his lips as he looks over Harry, stress written all over his face. Louis sighs because under his I-don't-give-a-fuck-I-just-got-laid look, he's working himself inside out with worry. He's just not willing to show it off.

Harry cracks open the bottle, striding into the living room and flicking on the telly, not paying attention to what's playing as he lays his head on the arm of the sofa, sipping idly at his beer. Louis stares at him for a long while, testing if he is going to say or do anything, and when an hour and a half passes and five more bottles are sitting next to the sink he sighs and hops off the counter, heading into their room to pass out.

Harry's eyes flit briefly to Louis' retreating figure as he passes him on his way to the hall. He swallows dryly, his chest swelling as he turns his head back towards the telly. He doesn't want to be in such a hateful relationship but he loves Louis so much for some inexplicable that he could never bring himself to leave.

Louis runs a hand though his hair messy hair as he falls into bed, crawling under the covers and pulling them up to his shoulders.

Harry soon gets sick of staring at the images on the telly, polishing off the last few drops of his beer and taking it into the kitchen, throwing it into the recycling bin before doing the same with all of Louis' discarded bottles, each one shattering loudly with the force he throws them with.

Louis mentally rolls his eyes as he hears the glass smashing. He was planning on picking them up in the morning when he's not slightly drunk and stressed and exhausted. Harry finishes cleaning up the bottles, letting out a deep breath.

He slowly walks down the hall, pushing open the bedroom door and crawling into bed aside Louis, lying on his side so both of their backs face each other. Louis has a strange urge to turn and wrap his arms around the younger boy.

He gets like this every time, distant and angry with either Louis or himself. They haven't cuddled in ages, they don't even kiss outside the bedroom unless they're at a family function trying and failing to play happy couple.

"What happened?" Harry asks quietly, not turning to face Louis. The question was eating at him, though he isn't sure either of them knew an answer.

"I don't know." Louis sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. He knows what Harry means and he really can't give him an answer.

"I know...I know we don't really work," Harry continues, his voice tight and strained. "But please don't leave me."

Louis lifts his arm and turns to peek at the back of Harry's head, his face soft as he pulls the boy to his chest, arms wrapped around him tight. He did it, he tried to express his bottled emotions. Harry tenses but he doesn't move away, waiting for Louis to confirm his request.

"Never," Louis whispers after a moment, placing a soft kiss behind his ear. Harry sighs deeply, letting his muscles relax and allowing Louis to cuddle him. He knows it's just the alcohol speaking for his boyfriend, but he needs the comfort. Louis nuzzles his nose into Harry's neck and closes his eyes. He wants to go back to how they use to be, cuddly and cute, always smiling and never fighting. Louis misses it. Harry's eyes flutter shut, his hands moving to rest on top of Louis, tracing small circles on his knuckles.

"I love you. Please remember that." Louis half pleads, hugging Harry tighter to him.

"I love you, too," Harry says quietly, although he's beginning to lose hope that his boyfriend is able to say that when he even half sober. Louis closes his eyes with a sigh, probably the millionth time that night, and starts to fall asleep. Happy to have his boyfriend in his arms for once.

***

Harry awakes in Louis' arms, twisting his neck to observe him as he snored lightly. He sighs, knowing the events of last night won't be acknowledged once the sleeping boy wakes.

Louis stirs from his slumber when Harry tries to scramble out of his arms, afraid of what he may say if he wakes to see him still curled against him.

Instead of scolding Harry with a sleep-soaked tone that he's an idiot to think Louis actually meant what he said, he pulls him back down with soft groan.

Harry sighs, allowing Louis to force him back into his chest.

"You have to go to work," he mutters, rolling over so he faces him and propping his head up on his elbow. Louis groans again.

"God, why?" It isn't really a question, Louis just doesn't want to get up. His head hurts like a bitch and he just wants to spend all day in bed. Harry pulls back from Louis again, running a hand through his boyfriend's hair and standing from the bed to make him breakfast.

"Where are you going?" Louis asks softly, sitting up slightly to look at the boy about to open the door.

"To make food," Harry answers, pulling the door open and slipping into the hall. The apartment is quiet and the only sounds are Harry's bare feet padding on the tile as he makes his way to the kitchen. Louis nods at Harry's retreating backside and pushes himself out of bed, pulling on some clothes and going into the bathroom for an Advil, and to brush his teeth, fix his hair, rub and splash the bags from under his eyes.

Harry cracks some eggs into a pan and pours two glasses of juice. He slides into a chair at the table that sits in the far corner, resting his head on his palm and waiting for the eggs to cook.

Louis finishes in the bathroom, his headache still strong, as he makes his way to the kitchen. Harry stands and picked up a spatula, scrambling the eggs and letting them cook a bit more as Louis enters the kitchen. He walks over to Harry and wraps his arms around his waist. This is new.

"Morning love," Louis greets. Harry's stomach flutters, showing he in no way has fallen out of love with Louis no matter how horrid their fighting has gone.

"Morning," he responds.

"Smells good," Louis hums, kissing the boy's cheek before pulling back and grabbing one of the glasses of orange juice. It hasn't been like this in a long time, this domestic, and to be honest Harry has no idea what's gotten into Louis, what drugs he took. Maybe it's the Advil. 

He spoons the eggs into two bowls, grabbing forks and taking them to the table.

"Thank you, baby." Louis smiles rather than smirks, taking one of the bowls from Harry and sitting down at the table, and is this some sort of sick joke Louis' pulling?

Harry grins in response, his dimples becoming more defined on the corners of his lips.

"You're welcome, daddy."

Louis' head shoots up to see Harry's grinning face, innocent as ever, starting back at him. Harry turns to his own plate, taking a bite of his eggs with a smirk on his face as Louis stares at him.

"About that, where the hell did it come from?" Louis asks, his tone nothing but curious and maybe a bit lustful, because. Yeah. Harry cocks an eyebrow.

"You have, like, six pornos on your computer and they all say it, so I figured I'd try," he answers with a shrug. Louis coughs awkwardly because okay, he has a daddy kink and now Harry knows. And accepts it, seemingly. And _goes along_  with it. Harry chuckles, taking a sip of his orange juice before glancing at the clock.

"You have to go soon," he says quietly.

"Ugh, I don't want to go to that shit place," Louis groans, taking a big bite of eggs.

"I don't want you to either. But you have to, you've already missed too many days this month," Harry mumbles. And there it is, that's the tone. The sad, innocent, I-may-call-you-daddy-in-bed-but-I'm-still-the-boss-of-you tone.

"It's not my fault I had to miss days to go to a fucking relationship counselor and out every other day on stupid little dates," Louis huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry's head snaps up, surprised and slightly offended at Louis' sudden outburst.

"Excuse me for trying to save our fucking relationship, not like you ever put in the effort," he snaps back. And here it goes. The sun that was shining through the blinds is now blocked by clouds.

"Because we were fine one day and then it all just turned to shit and I'm just waiting for it to go back to normal!" Louis shouts, exasperated, standing from his seat.

"Well sitting back and waiting isn't going to fucking make it go back to normal. Look at us, Louis! We were fine thirty seconds ago, and all I said was that you had to go to work! At least I'm trying!" Harry responds, his hands thrown up in the air.

"I don't want to _try_ anymore. We shouldn't have to, Harry, I just want us to be okay! Maybe if my job wasn't shit and you actually had one we could be better, we could move and-and start all over and just. Be. Okay!" Louis screams, his voice breaking as he nears the end. Harry slumps in his seat, his head falling into his hands.

"God, this is so stupid. It's ridiculous. I'm so fucking sick and tired of all this," he says, his voice weak.

A flash of nervousness washes over Louis' face.

"Last night was a two way thing, Harry. You can't leave me either," Louis states, panicked at seeing his boyfriend's defeated form.

"I'm not going to leave you, I couldn't if I wanted to. I've tried, believe me I've tried," Harry says with a humorless chuckle. "But I just keep coming back because I love you _so_ much. I just can't deal with all this fighting, it hurts so bad, Louis. It's killing me."

Louis bites his lip and walks slowly over to Harry, easing his way into his lap and cupping his face lightly as he stares into the green eyes he fell in love with once.

"Let's go. Anywhere you want, right now we'll go. I'll quit my job and we can can start brand new. Be us again," Louis whispers,pressing his forehead against Harry's while maintaining eye contact.

"It's not that easy, Louis," Harry whispers back, his hands moving to hang around Louis' neck loosely.

"It could be, we have enough money to do it, just have to cut down on the booze and we can do it," Louis states, his eyes pleading with Harry.

Harry nods, pulling Louis to him and pressing their lips together softly.

"Okay. Let's do it, let's be in love again," he whispers. Louis' face breaks out into a giant smile, his lips pressing to Harry's again in pure happiness.

"Where do you want to go, baby?" Louis questions when he pulled back.

"A city, let's get a studio apartment, or a loft. And we can get jobs and live life like an actual couple," Harry whispers.

"Sounds perfect," Louis agrees, the smile caught on his face as he grabs his phone and dials his work's number to tell them he isn't coming in the rest of the week. And just as he thought, they fire him.

Harry stands and throws his arms around his boyfriend, peppering kisses all over his face.

"What now?" he asks softly.

"Pack up the flat and sell it," Louis shrugs, catching Harry's lips in his. Harry pushes Louis against the fridge, not breaking the kiss. This was perfect, in fact no feeling is more extremely ideal than fixing what was broken.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis has been trying his best to help Harry out with cleaning their new flat for the sake of their relationship. He still throws his coat on a chair without a second thought once in a blue moon, but Harry lets it slide. He's not about to let them fall back into a dark hole of knock-out-drag-down fighting. In other words, hell. He'll go there later. 
> 
> Later, because their sex life has taken an interesting turn (interesting swerve through the gates of a bridge and off a fucking cliff into an ocean of kinks and unbelievable orgasms). 
> 
> (harry discovers louis' crossdressing kink and thinks about it a lot. he gets a bit more than he asks for.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two, tada! there is absolutely no plot to this part, its all smut smut smut. but hey, thats good sometimes. ITS VERY EXPLICIT. rated very very nc-17,not that thats gonna stop any of you. excuse unnecessarily long authors note enjoy !! :D

*2 Months Later*

New beginnings are great. The freshness of a new city, new home, new life are what make Harry spring to his senses every waking morning. Because he gets to wake up to Louis, looking baby-faced and innocent with his long black lashes skimming his cheeks. And he can touch him, smother him, kiss him. He often finds his lips guiding themselves to Louis' without fail, whether they're sitting down for a meal (rather sorely, at that), discussing each other's days, watching one of Harry's stupid silent films. He always wants him, always wants to feel him close, and now that he's able to cuddle without question, he can't get enough.

Louis and Harry had found a nice flat in Birmingham, where Louis had gotten a job rather easily as a secretary at a record company. Harry had had a bit of a tougher time finding employment with his little experience, but the baking classes he'd 'wasted' his time on as soon as he was out of sixth form seemed to come in handy eventually. He ended up at tiny cafe, bussing and waiting tables most of the time. On good days they let him assist the chef.

The two hadn't had a real fight since the day they packed up their old flat. Tiny arguments here and there, which always ended with Harry pouting and getting Louis to inconspicuously transfer to his side in agreement. Tiny arguments here and there, which, more often than not, ended in sex.

Louis has been trying his best to help Harry out with cleaning their new flat for the sake of their relationship. He still throws his coat on a chair without a second thought once in a blue moon, but Harry lets it slide. He's not about to let them fall back into a dark hole of knock-out-drag-down fighting. In other words, hell. He'll go there later.

Later, because their sex life has taken an interesting turn (interesting swerve through the gates of a bridge and off a fucking cliff into an ocean of kinks and unbelievable orgasms).

They seldom fuck each other on the bed; their new flat has too much floorspace for that. Harry is learning all kinds of Louis' kinks, sneaking onto his computer and checking his internet history not to be nosy, only to find out what his boyfriend likes so he could please him appropriately without approaching him into an awkward conversation.

Alongside the daddy kink, Harry had learned that his boyfriend doesn't mind being a little bit rough. Big surprise, he's always been a raging bull in bed. He's got a thing for dirty talk, for god's sake he never shuts up. But the one that interests Harry the most is the unhealthy porn stash stuffed and overflowing with, wait for it, crossdressing.

Harry hasn't messed with it much, afraid of how stupid he may look if he attempted drag despite Louis' obvious curiosity with it. Once or twice he's put on a bit of mascara or eyeliner that Louis hardly notices, but nothing more.

Today Harry happens to have the day off, so he had straightened up the already-spotless flat and made himself lunch before sending Louis a cute hey-babe-when-do-you-get-off-work-smiley-face text.

He replies quickly, tells Harry he should be home by six and adds four little x's at the end.

Harry smiles; he has plenty of time to pop into the shops for dinner ingredients. Yes, dinner ingredients.

He carelessly throws items for spaghetti into the cart before pushing it eagerly to the makeup aisle of Tesco's. He scans the shelves, carefully searching for something that would drive his boyfriend mad. He settles on basic bright red lipstick, a dark pink blush, and a tube of black liquid eyeliner.

Thank god for self-checkout.

He purchases the items, and drives the short distance to a women's lingerie store. He doesn't worry about the awkwardness of buying such things, the cashiers would only think he is getting a gift for a girlfriend or wife.

Harry explores the store for about twenty whole minutes before finding the perfect thing to make Louis want to jump his bones.

It's a black half slip made of almost see-though material, with dark red panties to go under it. And he actually debates purchasing a bra to match.

He decides against it though, a bra would add up to another fifty dollars and he has beyond blown through his tips from the previous week. He sneaks into the dressing room when the sales assistants aren't looking, pulling the material over his head and examining himself in the mirror. He doesn't look half bad, at least he thought. Maybe this cross-dressing thing isn't as bad of an idea as he thought it may turn out to be.

Harry quickly takes off the garment and stealthily sneaks back out of the dressing room, taking the items to the counter to pay.

The ladies coo as one bags his purchases.

"Would you like this gift-wrapped for the special lady?" the one ringing up his items asks, shooting him a wink that makes him shift uncomfortably.

"Um, no thank you," Harry responds with a tight smile. The lady just nods and rings him up, telling him the total before handing him his purchase.

He exits the shop with his items in hand, placing the bag in the passenger seat of his car and speeding home. He has nearly two hours to get ready before Louis is going to arrive home, but frankly he has no idea what to do with the makeup he'd bought and would need plenty of time. Time and Youtube tutorials.

Harry goes straight to the bathroom with his laptop and shopping bag after he had placed the groceries on the counter. He fires up his computer and rapidly types his search, spreading his items across the counter.

After watching three or four instructional videos full of fake, overly-bronzed teenage girls, Harry feels he has at least half of an idea what to do with the makeup, especially the eyeliner. He wants it to be thick, noticeable, and fancy, not just a thin line like he's done before.

He looks at the time to see he still has an hour and a half, just enough time to do his makeup and then make dinner before Louis gets home.

He picks up the tube of eyeliner, uncapping it and holding it so it hovers above his eyelid. Here goes nothing, he thinks, holding his lashes down with his fingers as he slowly and carefully drags the liquid tip across his eyelid. He gets the line satisfyingly thick, quickly swiping it on his waterline for extra emphasis before turning his attention back to the top and drawing the outline of a thick wing as the tutorials had shown him. He fills it in, stepping back from the mirror and examining his work with a smirk on his lips.

Louis is going to wreck him.

He quickly but carefully does the same to the other eye, and after he's wiped away off at least four smeary black blotches of an attempted matching wing, he steps back. His second eye isn't exactly the same, but it's satisfactory enough.

He applies his mascara with a flourish, excitedly rocking back and forth on his heels as he swipes the brush over his lashes.

He dabs on blush and lipstick, the finishing touches to his masterpiece.

He steps back from the mirror when he's completely finished. He's gotten the wings of his eyeliner fairly even, in the end, and the dangerous black color made his emerald irises pop. He stares at his reflection, and if he's completely honest, he would say he'd fuck himself.

Harry smirks as he pulled off all his clothes and slips on the panties and slip, observing the ensemble from every angle he can to make sure he looks alright before nodding his head at his own reflection.

He takes his time with dinner, having nearly half an hour before Louis would be returning and he's fairly positive eating dinner will not be the first thing on Louis' mind when he walks through the door. He pours the spaghetti sauce into a saucer pan, turning up the flame and giving it a small stir. He then sets to boiling the water for the noodles, filling another pot with tap water and placing it on the stove.

Harry pulls a bottle of cheap wine from the rack, feeling himself get unfairly turned on just thinking as he watches the crimson liquid drizzle into the base of his glass.

He adds spices to the sauce, milling about the kitchen in boredom as he tends to his meal. He's just beginning to plate the food when he hears keys jiggling outside the door, smirking to himself as his stomach flutters in anticipation of Louis' reaction.

Louis toes off his shoes in the foyer, pushing them up against the wall as he peels off his jacket. He frowns at the lack of light in the house, but the delightful scent of food, and what's sure to be Harry, tickles his nose in a delightful sensation. Smiling at the thought of his boyfriend cooking for him, he hangs his coat on the hook without a second thought.

Harry hears Louis throw his keys into the bowl he keeps on the shelf by the door, pushing the plates aside since he knew it would be a bit before he and Louis would bother with them.

"Hey, baby, want some wine?" he calls, pouring a bit more into his own glass.

The gravel in his voice triggers an immediate shock of arousal to pool in the pit of Louis' stomach.

"Sure," he responds off-handedly, striding around the corner of the hall, shaking his hair out. He stills in his tracks at the sight of his boyfriend pouring a glass of wine for him, because damn, he looks - damn.

"Holy fuck," Harry hears him breath, his smirk growing into a full blown sly smile.

"What is it, baby?" he asks innocently, corking the wine bottle and setting it on the counter before palming Louis' glass and approaching him to hand it over. He leans in and presses a lingering kiss to his boyfriend's mouth, stepping back to admire the way his lipstick has faintly stained Louis' lips.

Louis doesn't utter a word, hell, he doesn't even know if he can form them as he stares open-mouthed at his boyfriend. Taking in the eyeliner, blush and lipstick combined with what he's dressed in, Louis' trousers become uncomfortably tight in record time and his pupils blow wide with pure lust.

"Stop staring, it's rude," Harry scolds playfully, grazing his fingers softly up and down Louis' arm, setting his wine glass on the nearest surface.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" he asks in a sweet voice when Louis continued to gaze at him with wide eyes, no words of either praise of discontent falling from his lips. His lacks of speech only fuels Harry's confidence.

"Oh, god, I want to fucking jump you right now," Louis finally mutters under his breath, the words wetting the barrier of his dry throat. Harry looks so breathtakingly beautiful, he cann't believe that what he's seeing right now is more than a hallucination of his colorful mind.

"Well _daddy_ , why don't we sit down and eat...and afterwards we can play," Harry practically purrs, batting his eyelashes as Louis bites the inside of his cheek.

"I'm not very hungry, princess," he mumbles in response, fighting the urge to tackle his boyfriend and fuck him on the kitchen floor.

Harry fakes a pout.

"But I made a special dinner just for you and I," Harry states, biting his lip lightly as Louis continued to drink in his appearance.

"Well, maybe once Daddy fills your pretty little bum up with his come he'll get a bigger appetite," Louis whispered, his hands brushing Harry's hips.

Harry holds back a moan at his words and lightly spreads his large hands over Louis' chest.

"Fine, but you have to wreck me to the point where I can't see straight," Harry whispers, his lips grazing the shell of Louis' ear. He nibbles, relishing in Louis' sharp intake of breath. "No holding back."

"Oh, baby, I won't," Louis chuckles darkly, pulling Harry closer so they're flush against one another, immediately slotting their lips together.

Harry's hands go straight to Louis' hair, tangling in the long strands, pulling harshly.

Louis nips at Harry's bottom lip, his small hands pushing up the slip so the hem rests above his bum and slipped his hands into the boy's panties, his fucking panties.

"Daddy," Harry moans, the older boy's hands on his bum, sending intense shivers up and down his spin as Louis kneads his pasty arse both hands.

Louis takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into Harry's open mouth, exploring the inside of his mouth like he's done so many times before, yet he still feels the same sense of unfamiliarity that he loves.

Louis backs Harry up until his thighs hit the dinning room table, lifting the boy up by the bum with a firm grip and setting Harry down, his hands going under the slip to his hips.

"Where?" Harry pants into Louis' mouth, pulling his hands away from the boy's hair to rest on his shoulders.

"Right here," Louis breathes, his hands squeezing hard.

Harry nods, pulling Louis' face back close to his own, slowly trailing his tongue along the outline of his boyfriend's lips.

And, _Jesus Christ_ , he's actually lapping up tinges of his own lipstick tracing Louis' thin pink mouth.

Louis lowers his hands to the hem of Harry's panties and pushes them over the tiny curve of Harry's petite bum.

Harry lifts his hips, his toes curling as he assists Louis in removing his lacy underwear, freeing his suffocating cock underneath the loose, airy material of the slip.

"Lay back, baby," Louis orders softly, pulling away from Harry and dashing to their room. He leaves a trail of his own clothing as he moves swiftly through their bedroom, digging their warming lube out from the bedside drawer. He returns confidently, wielding the bottle in his left hand.

Harry cranes his neck to see what Louis' brought, his lips stretching into a small smile when he does.

"Ah, my favorite," he breathes, letting his head fall back down onto the hard wood of the table.

Louis chuckles at the boy as he spreads his legs open, stretching him wide until Harry can feel the burn in his thighs.

"Love you like this. All spread out, nice and ready for me. Daddy's gonna make you feel so good, baby doll," Louis murmurs, lazily drizzling lube over his fingers. He lets the excess slide from the skin and splatter the floor, tiny pools of slick shine gathering on the tile with the slightest bit of a pink tint. The warming chemicals take effect immediately, and Louis can feel the lube radiating warmth from his fingers. He scoops a drop of the overflow from the tile with his non-slick index finger, sliding up Harry's stomach and gently tracing the hardened rosy outline of his left nipple. He arches his back, the warm sensation engulfing the sensitive nub and leaving it tingling with the hot remnants of Louis' touch.

Louis grins at Harry's easy response, resting the heel of his lubed hand against the edge of the table and gently pressing a finger against Harry's entrance.

Harry groans as he feels Louis circling his rim in a teasing dance, chewing on his lip.

Louis presses two fingers in fast, and Harry instantly keens and clenches around the digits with a soft whimper.

"Fuck," Harry breathes, the warming lube making his insides tingle. His hands are stretching to reach Louis' hair in a second, yanking and tugging like it's his lifeline.

Louis smirks as he presses in and out, the wet, slick sound of the lube echoing off the walls with the force of his thrusts.

And Harry could come just like this. The stretch of two fingers isn't nearly close enough to what he needs, but they're curling perfectly against his prostate and the lube is heating the insides of his clenching walls. Louis' opposite hand keeps sneaking up to tease and twist his nipples at the same time that he opens him up slow and deep.

"D-Daddy, just fuck me," Harry whines, trying to rock back on Louis' fingers but the position he's in making it difficult.

"In a bit. Don't be impatient, love, or I'll have to spank you," Louis warns. Harry nearly chokes, because. Okay, he definitely isn't gagging for that.

Too soon, Louis' pulling out his fingers and kneeling to his knees.

He pulls Harry's bum off the edge of the table and squeezes his arse once, pulling the pale cheeks apart enough to see Harry's hole, shining with lube as it clenches around air.

"What are you doing?" Harry gasps as Louis bends forward and dips his tongue into him. His palms drop to the table, scratching at the wood, fists scrambling for some sort of purchase on the smooth gloss of the table.

Louis doesn't answer, doesn't need to, because they both know much too well what he's doing. He just smirks and begins to nibble and suck at the boy's rim, both Harry's taste and the warmth of the lube darting over his tongue.

Harry can fucking feel the smirk on his boyfriend's lips and it's driving him mad. His mind is a blur and he feels like he needs to come, but he can't, he refuses to until Louis' fucking him properly.

It seems Louis has other plans though. His hand drifts from its resting place on his belly, down to his flushed dick, standing tall, hard and leaking. He swipes his thumb gently over the tip, gathering a bead of precome and smearing it down Harry's shaft.

He hisses, vision darkening dramatically and he's so, so close.

Louis pumps him slowly, the dwindling speed of his hand an impressive and erotic contrast to his frantic tongue darting in and out at an increasing pace.

"S-stop," Harry gasps, squeezing his eyes shut as he feels a familiar pull deep in the pit of his stomach, his skin heated and edging on bursting with the gratuitous amount of pleasure Louis' exploiting from his trembling body. He wills himself to hold it but with Louis' tongue plunging in and out of his hole combined with his hand, he doesn't know how long he's going to last.

Louis pulls back just enough for his muffled words to be heard, his hand not stopping its excruciatingly slow movements.

"Want you to come all over yourself for me, baby, mess yourself up good," he purrs.

That's all it takes for Harry to find his release, his cock twitching and pulsing against his stomach as he comes in thick white ropes reaching all the way up to his pecs.

A series of strangled groans erupt from his chest as his orgasm hits, hard, along with a helpless mix of murmurings ranging from _Louis, god, shit, daddy_.

Louis smirks and dives back in, his tongue licking inside Harry as he sucks his rim, feeling the boy continue to shiver and shake through the aftershocks.

Harry whimpers at the oversensitivity of his hole and cock, squirming on the table. Louis doesn't let up, his tongue and hand still moving at the same ridiculously pleasing alternate paces.

Louis can feel Harry becoming hard again in his hand, hears him whimper on the table as he thrashes around. Louis retracts his tongue and hand and sits back on his heels.

"Get your hand on yourself, baby," he instructs, standing and taking a step back from his boyfriend.

Harry is too eager to oblige, stroking himself lightly before timidly wrapping his hand around the base of his cock and giving himself a few quick tugs. He winces at the feel of his dry hand roughly dragging at the skin of his erection, but he likes it in a brutally kind of pleasing way.

Louis licks his lips, staring at Harry with his pupils blown wide. His boyfriend's own eyes are screwed shut, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"That's it, keep going, baby," Louis encourages, placing his delicate hands on Harry's hips and massaging them with the pads of his thumbs. Harry continues to pump himself, his pace quickening as his cock hardens.

"H-hurts," Harry whimpers shakily, his voice high and his breaths exiting in sharp pants.

Louis steps around the corner of the table, bending his back and pressing his lips to Harry's softly, the sideways position awkward but tolerable.

"It's alright baby, you're being so good for daddy. Look so beautiful," Louis praises, running a hand though Harry's hair.

Harry preens, little noises escaping his lips as he jerks himself, hand flying up and down his length.

"So good for me, baby doll. You gonna come for daddy?" Louis purrs, tracing Harry's sharp jawline with the tip of his index finger, still slick with undried lube.

"Soon," Harry pants, ignoring the spikes of sensitivity in his lower regions as he pumps his pulsing cock faster, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat.

Louis hums a comforting melody as his fingers drag through Harry's curls, pushing it out of his face to see his eyes. He frowns when he sees they're still screwed shut, his fingers fluttering over his lashes.

Harry blinks them open, glazed over with tears. His green irises pop against his flushed red skin, and god. Louis loves him so much he feels like his body can't contain the intensity of his raging emotions sometimes.

Harry's tugs are slowing as his arm tires, his left hand reaching for Louis' and tangling their fingers together. He's so close, he just needs something to push him over the edge.

Louis notices his discomfort, tipping his head down so his lips are right at Harry's ear, goosebumps raising on the boy's neck as he cranes it to the side.

"After you come, I'm gonna fuck you with one of your slutty toys until you're screaming, and you're so sensitive. You'll come from that, and then I'm going to sit you on my lap while you bounce on my cock," he pauses to murmur something about how good Harry is for him. "And then daddy's gonna fuck into you upwards at the same time you're sliding down, and then come inside your pretty little arse, yeah? Gonna get messy with all daddy's come, baby?"

Harry lets out a series of strangled whimpers as he shoots his load all over his stomach once again, new stripes of come slashing over the drying ones.

Harry's shaking now, and Louis presses soft kisses all over his face as he pulls him off the table, scoops him up, and carries him to their room. He's so big, and his limbs are so long so it's almost awkward, but the way he's curling himself into Louis as if he's trying to mold into him makes actual butterflies explode in the pit of his stomach.

"I think I'm going to come dry this time," Harry mumbles into Louis' shoulder, lazily wrapping his arms around his boyfriend's torso.

"Mm, we'll have to see princess," Louis replies, setting Harry on the bed gently before going into the closet and pulling out their special box, full of different toys and lubes. He pulls out a pink dildo that's remote-controlled and their cooling lube to make sure Harry feels the vibrations.

Harry leans against the headboard, his eyes fluttering shut and not necessarily paying much attention to what Louis' doing. He's so spent that he could sleep, but the promise of Louis' cock in the near future keeps him from doing so.

Louis walks back to the bed and crawls up to perch himself between Harry's legs.

Harry opens his eyes, looking at Louis with hooded lids. He has lipstick smeared on his mouth and everywhere surrounding it, abstract spots of red dotted along his chin, and even some on his cheeks and forehead.

Louis thinks Harry looks absolutely gorgeous himself, his hair wild and his chest rising and falling harshly as he takes long, deep breaths though his mouth.

"So beautiful, baby," Louis whispers, pouring a generous amount of lube on the toy and pressing it to Harry's stretched rim, pushing in slowly as Harry practically sucks it up into himself.

"Ow, fuck," Harry groans, his head falling forward and his untamed curls masking his eyes. Oversensitive spikes prick at his rim, making him wince.

"It's alright, baby, you're doing so well," Louis praises, pushing the dildo in to the base before removing his hand and grabbing the remote, flicking it on to the first setting.

Harry throws his head back, slamming it against the headboard as his fingers desperately claw at the sheets for purchase. He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, little noises escaping the back of his throat as he feels the toy inside of him, the vibrations sending chills up his spine.

"Daddy, oh fuck, daddy," Harry moans. Louis smirks and turns the dial up twice more, a faint hum now echoing off the walls as the toy pulses.

Louis begins to thrust the dildo in and out relentlessly, and he can't tell if the noises Harry's making are out of pain or pleasure, but frankly he doesn't care. _No holding back_.

When Harry starts to chant the word 'daddy', Louis almost loses it, wants to say fuck it all and flip him over so he can fuck him into the mattress right then. The boy is so fucking perfect and looks so fucking good, Louis has to refrain himself from coming in his boxers.

Louis turns the dial once more without pausing his thrusts, the vibrations shifting to the highest setting.

After a few minutes, when he feels Harry's about to come, his movements gradually slow until his hand comes to a complete stop, the toy still vibrating inside of his boyfriend.

"Come, love," Louis whispers, his voice deep and forceful. "See if you can come without me."

"I-I can't," Harry gasps, his fist unclenching from the sheets as he brings his hand to his sensitive but hard cock, stroking himself lightly.

"Yes, you can darling," Louis states, his fingernails digging into Harry's thighs.

"Say something, do something, I can't on my own," Harry pleads, his eyes wide and tearful as he begs. He desperately wants, no needs, to come, but can't without motivation.

"Just think about my cock filling you up after you come, how I'm going to have you sit on my lap and fuck yourself on me," Louis hums, running a finger over the boy's red, slick-with-lube rim.

Finally Harry comes, not completely dry but damn close, very little come squirting from the tip of his cock. Three orgasms in an hour is a lot to ask. And Louis still wants one more.

"Good boy," Louis praises, giving the panting boy a quick kiss before tugging off his boxers and grabbing the bottle of lube.

"You ready for me baby? Look so perfect," he murmurs as he slicks himself up, gently twisting the vibrating toy out of Harry and flicking it off.

Harry's head lolls to the side, his eyes red-rimmed and hooded. He feels dizzy and light-headed, like all of his consciousness and adrenaline has literally left his body in the form of come.

Louis coos at the boy's wrecked state, bending forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

When the lube starts to chill over his aching cock he shivers, lifting Harry from the bed so he can settle himself down on his elbows and shift Harry over his cock before he assists him in dropping down, the lube chilling against his walls.

He feels like the toy's still vibrating inside him, but the feel of Louis' perfect cock filling him up is the dominating sensation.

"Oh...oh my God," Harry groans. His whole body is quivering. He feels like thousands of tiny needles are pricking into the skin of his cock and on the insides of his walls, but in a way he likes it.

Louis smirks darkly at Harry's reaction, pushing the boy to slide up and down on his cock, making sure he goes slow so the boy won't fall and so he can feel Louis' dick fucking in and out of him deep and slow.

"Wanna try something with you, darling," Louis mutters after a few moments of Harry's consistent whimpering and whining, making Louis' dick twist inside of him.

"Mmm," Harry responds, the noise meaning nothing in particular. One of his hands slowly make its way to Louis' face, cupping his cheek and gently stroking with his thumb.

Louis lifts Harry off his cock and pulls him off the bed, loving the way Harry can't stand on his own and has to hang off of Louis to stay upright on his quivering legs.

"Hold on to the bed darling," Louis orders him softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead before going to the dresser.

Harry does as he's told, his legs shaking and knees threatening to buckle underneath him. He hears Louis opening drawers but doesn't mind him, his eyes closed and his wild hair, at least what portion wasn't sticking to his forehead with sweat, tickling his face.

Louis grabs a pairs of black braces, holding them tightly as he walks back over to the shaking boy and presse his lips to his neck before speaking softly.

"Get on your knees facing me."

Harry obliges wearily, confusion crossing his features. He gets into the correct position and stares at Louis expectantly, waiting patiently for his boyfriend's next command.

"Lift your hands for me," Louis says, tying one end of the suspenders to the end of the bed and the other to Harry's wrist when he holds them out for him. Louis makes sure they're tight enough that Harry wouldn't get loose and squats down to pick the boy up by his thighs. He pushes his legs up to his shoulders and scoots backwards until Harry's arms can't stretch anymore. Basically, Harry is hanging in the air just off the edge of the bed, his arms above his head and tied to the headboard.

Harry's heart is pounding. He didn't know what his boyfriend's doing, but it's new and it is kinky. He whimpers quietly, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Shh, baby, got to save your voice for when you scream my name."

Louis grins, angling Harry's entrance with his cock and pushing in until his hips are snug against Harry's arse.

Harry hands grab fruitlessly at the air, whimpering again when he realizes he can't hold onto anything. He closes his fists, his blunt nails digging sharply into his palms.

"Move," he pleads, his voice hoarse.

"Whatever you say princess," Louis says with a smirk, his hands groping Harry's bum while he moves his long thin legs until they're spread apart wide until he knows it's painful and Harry will feel it in the morning.

Harry whines, his legs straining in Louis' grasp. His head falls forward and he bites his tongue until he tastes blood, the rustic flavor filling his mouth unpleasantly.

"God, you look absolutely perfect," Louis moans, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he begins to thrust harshly into Harry's tight heat.

"You are absolutely perfect," Harry mutters in response, his mouth hanging open and breaths coming out in shaky pants.

"You can form words," Louis teases, not having heard Harry speak more than a word or two at a time since before they entered the room.

Harry tries to reply, but he's cut off by his own moans as Louis' violent thrusts rock him upwards. His entire body is absolutely screaming in pain, and he loves it. Louis' eyes are hooded as he looks down at his mess of a boyfriend and Louis doesn't know how long he'll last when he's been waiting with a hard cock for an hour. And now he's finally inside him, fucking him hard and deep, and his wrecked state right in perfect view isn't helping to delay his orgasm.

"Fuck, daddy," Harry whimpers, his high approaching quicker than it should have with how many times he's already came that night. He's been craving Louis' cock all night, and despite all the other things they'd done in the past hour there's nothing that makes him feel so full and completely in bliss.

"Can you come dry for me, princess? I bet you can. You've been so good for me tonight, love you so much," Louis pants, his grip on Harry tightening.

Harry chews on his lip, and he's sure his fingernails have broken the skin of his palms from the way they dig into the flesh. He's in so much pain that it can't even be considered pleasurable unless you have some kind of kink, which Harry has discovered he definitely does. Louis unconsciously spreads his already split legs further as he thrusts, making Harry's body lurch forward and shudder violently as his cock pulses in a completely dry orgasm. His vision blacks out and his head lolled to the side, looking completely fucked out. His mind is reeling, and he feels so faint he actually thinks he may pass out.

Louis moans low in his throat as he watches Harry come dry, his own orgasm exploding through him as he comes inside the boy, probably harder then he ever has before.

"Oh my god," Harry pants, his body thrashing and tears openly spilling from his eyes. "Oh, god, I love you so much."

Louis gently sets Harry on the floor, the boy's eyes shut and his chest heaving as he takes deep, quivering breaths. Louis unties Harry from the end of the bed and kisses both of his wrists when he sees the angry red marks the braces haves left.

"Think this thing's ruined?" Harry chuckles wetly, referring to the come-coated slip that's was sticking to his chest with sweat and the dried come that has sunk through the meshy material.

"Hope not, I'll throw it in the wash," Louis states, helping Harry pull it off. He moves briskly down the hall on shaky legs and grabs Harry's panties from the dining room, then put the slip and panties into the washing machine before going to the bathroom and wetting a flannel to wipe Harry down.

Harry rubs at his bruised wrists as he awaits Louis' return. They were beginning to turn purple, and he has red indents on his palms from his own fingernails. His hips are also bruised, and he's sure his bum was too from how tight Louis had been clutching it. He hopes his boyfriend won't feel bad when he sees the wounds, because Harry likes the thought of being marked as his and no one else's.

The come is dripping from his arse and sliding down his thighs, forcing him to bite back an unbelievable hard on.

When Louis gets back to their room, he sees Harry rubbing his bum into the ground like a dog, making him chuckle and raise an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

"You alright there, love?" Louis asks, squatting in front of his the younger boy.

Harry shakes his head, his untamed mess of hair moving with it.

"Too sensitive," he mumbles.

Louis crooks his head to the side in confusion, making Harry whine.

"Daddy, your come. Feel it dripping all over, can't get hard again," Harry whimpers almost inaudibly, his cock starting to spring to  
life once again which he doesn't think is fucking possible and certainly doesn't think he'd be able to come again.

Louis' lips form into an 'o' shape.

"Maybe we should replace it with something else while we go eat dinner," he muses, a smirk forming on his lips.

Harry flinches at the thought of something else being inside him, he's so, so sensitive and he doesn't know how much more he can take but he's willing to do anything for Louis.

"Like what?" Harry asks.

Louis stands and walks back to closet, pulling out the box once again and digging through it before pulling out a pale pink butt plug, smirking to himself as he turns back to face Harry.

Harry bites his lip to stop it from trembling, slowly turning over and presenting his arse to Louis, waiting for him to plug him up.

"You made me promise not to hold back, princess," he purrs into Harry's ear as he bends over him, slowly tracing a finger around his stretched, dripping rim. He picks up the plug and positions it at his boyfriend's inflamed rim, slowly pushing it inside until it's up to the base.

Harry whimpers, but nodded knowing he can't complain, because he asked for this and he's going to take it as best he can.

Louis lightly pats Harry's bum and turned him back over.

"So how about that spaghetti, it smelled delicious."

***

After eating, and a lot of uncomfortable shifting in his seat when Harry feels the butt plug push against his sensitive prostate, Louis finally gives him a rest and allows him to take it out, much to Harry's relief. They go to bed after changing the sheets, curled against one another. They'd gotten into some sort of stupid conversation about something random, Harry falling asleep mid-sentence with Louis following suit not long after.

Harry is the first to wake up in the morning, despite how tired he was the night before. He feels refreshed and happy, even if his body aches.

He slowly tears himself from his sleeping boyfriend's arms, careful not to wake him but he can't help but press a gentle kiss to his forehead. He sits up, stretches his arms. He doesn't hurt that bad, at least much less than he was expecting. That opinion changes when he stands, though, it feels like someone had literally stuck a kitchen knife into his bum and he gasps, stumbling and falling flat on his face.

Harry groans and pushes himself up the best that he can.

"What are you doing?" a sleepy Louis asks as he sits up in bed, his voice thick as he rubs his eyes and looks down at his boyfriend.

"Nothing," Harry squeaks, a furious blush traveling up his neck. He sits up quickly, hissing as his bum presses against the hard wood floor.

Louis chuckles and rolls out of bed, his hair a mess and a fond smile on his lips.

"Really? 'Cos it seems like you can't walk."

Harry smiles sheepishly as his eyes fall to stare at the floor, shaking his head with a blush staining his cheeks.

Louis grins with pride at the thought of what he did to his boyfriend last night.

"Don't laugh at me, I was trying to go make you food," Harry whines, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Would you like me to carry you?" Louis asks in a sweet voice, pinching Harry's cheeks.

"No, I'm not cooking you breakfast anymore. You're mean," Harry grumbles, grabbing onto Louis' dangling arms and using them to heave himself upright, wincing.

Louis holds back a laugh and puts an arm under Harry's legs, hoisting him up and cuddling him into his bare chest.

"How about I make you some breakfast for a change, yeah?" the older boy mumbles, pressing his lips to Harry's forehead.

Harry huffs but nods, letting Louis carry him into the kitchen and set him on the counter, wincing when his bum sends a sharp pain up his spine.

"Sorry 'bout that," Louis says as he sets to cracking eggs into a pan, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

"No, you're not. But then again, neither am I," Harry states, laying down on his side, thankful he had picked a flat with a lot of counter space.

Louis bites back a smirk, joining Harry on the counter once he has the eggs going. "So after we eat, what would you think about round...five?" he guesses.

"I think I'm never going to be able to walk again," Harry grumbled, but nods his head at Louis' question.

"But only if we can look online for some new stuff for me later," he adds quickly peaking up at Louis from where his head rests on his arm.

Louis cocks an eyebrow.

"What kind of stuff?" he asks, gently shaking off Harry's head before jumping from his spot on the counter to scramble the eggs and pop some bread into the toaster.

"I don't know daddy, maybe some skirts, panties, things like that," Harry suggests with a sly smile when he saw Louis pause what he was doing and go stiff.

"So I can only fuck you if I allow you to go online and buy hot things for me to fuck you in in the future? Deal," he responds after a while, spooning the eggs onto a plate and going to the fridge for butter and jam.

Harry smirks at Louis' back and turns onto his stomach, trying to not move too much so his bum doesn't hurt as much.

"Shut up and feed me. And get your laptop, I want to look now," Harry says playfully.

Louis rolls his eyes before he sets the eggs and toast down next to Harry. He runs a hand up and down Harry's back, making him shiver when he gets close to his bum and gives it a rough smack.

"Would you like to rephrase that, princess?" he questions, his voice low.

"Hmm, nope," Harry responds. "S'your fault I can't walk."

Louis delivers another gentle smack to the boy's sore bum, making Harry stiffen into the counter.

"Did you really think you'd be able to walk today when you put that outfit on yesterday?" Louis questions, his fingers dancing acrossed Harry's silky skin.

"No, but that was the point. I don't think you wrecked me enough, to be honest. I barely even cried," Harry rambles, shivering at Louis' touch.

"Please, you were sobbing," Louis mutters, sending another three harsh smacks to Harry's ass, a light pink shade sprouting.

Harry chews on the inside of his cheek.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed. "You'll be lucky if you can get me off the counter."

"Who said I wanted you off it, I can fuck you just fine just like this," Louis states, letting a finger slip between Harry's cheeks.

Harry tenses, squirming underneath Louis' touch.

"No," he whines.

Louis raises an eyebrow though his boyfriend couldn't see.

"Don't remember asking for your opinion princess," Louis says, sticking two fingers straight inside the squirming boy and twisting them violently.

Harry gasps, his head falling down onto his arm. He squeezes his eyes shut, sinking his teeth into his wrist. Louis' fingers feel more like sharpened pencils.

Louis smirks devilishly when Harry starts to let out little whimpers as Louis scissors inside of him.

"Better get used to being bossed around, at this rate I'm going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of my life," Harry grinds through clenched teeth.

"It'll be worth it."

Louis shrugs, a third finger pushing in alongside the other two.

Harry whines loudly, attempting to dig his body further into the counter. "Got that right," he grunts.

"Would you like me to fuck you here or take you to the bed?" Louis asks, abruptly removing his fingers.

"Bed," Harry blurts without hesitation, letting out a shaky breath and rolling onto his side.

Louis smiles at him and presses a soft kiss to Harry's lips, wrapping his arms around the boy's slim waist and lifting him up, Harry's arms slinging around his neck.

"Love you, princess," Louis mutters when Harry lays his head on the older boy's shoulder.

Harry responds by kissing Louis' neck, sighing into his skin as Louis lays him gently on the mattress.

Louis smiles at the boy, there and ready for him to do as he pleases. Louis loves it, he loves Harry.


	3. Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry walks quickly to his car, dropping slowly into the driver's seat and trying to jam the key into the ignition though he can't see through the tears falling from cheeks, loads of them swimming to his eyes faster than he can cry them out. He ends up dropping the keys to the car floor, hands shaking and he can't find the fucking ignition through his blurry vision. He takes a shaky breath and leans his head on the steering wheel, a choked sob escaping his lips.
> 
> This wasn't supposed to happen, they were supposed to be happy and start new and have a future together. Harry brings his hands up to grip the steering wheel, so tight his knuckles turn white. His tears fall onto the leather of the wheel, the salty drops sliding down the surface and falling to his lap.
> 
> And he can't help but feel like it's his fault. 
> 
> (or, both louis and harry get upset and some nasty things are said. angsty, fluffy things endure)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the third and final chapter !! i dont believe theres actually any smut in this, its very angsty and couple-y and sad,so if youre into that kind of thing (like me,haha)
> 
> enjoy :D

Three months later

 

If you told Louis and Harry half a year ago that they'd be leading a happy, successful relationship with kisses and I love you's and sex that was more than just a meaningless shag, they would have laughed in your face, and then maybe downed a good few beers. And then shagged. 

Harry can't remember the last time they'd had a proper throwdown, over something serious, or even over something stupid at that. Decidedly, Louis can't help but jump him every once in a while when he's lounging around chewing gum or something equally provoking. He just does this  _thing_ where he lets it dangle from his tongue, or sometime he'll suck it obnoxiously while working his jaw and it's exhausting to watch, really. He also, like. Sits around in panties sometimes. It's a thing. 

And Louis tries, really does, to let him be most of the time. Harry takes relaxing very seriously, but when he's doing yoga in lacy underwear with his fucking arse stuck in the air in the fucking downward-facing dog position, Louis thinks he must actually be asking for it. 

So when Harry wakes naked, wrecked, and sore for the sixth night in a row, he decides it's best to take a break from the unhealthy amount of sex they have. Louis is literally wearing his body out, and often he goes to work hardly able to walk.

Harry creeps out of bed and winces, hobbling to the bathroom to take a shower. He figures yoga and a hot cup of tea might help. He makes a note to himself to brew some when he gets to the cafe (and frowns because if Louis had time to make him some it would be so much better), and also to do his yoga after work in man-clothes, just in case. 

The hot water relaxes his muscles a bit, not helping much with the pain in his bum but makes his back feel less stiff and achy at the same time.

He runs soap through his hair and over his body, the scent of his floral-yet-still-manly shampoo trapping his senses. He wishes Louis were here to wash his hair for him, because he had a way of massaging his skull that relaxes him instantly. 

He shuts off the water and climbs out, letting out a deep breath and wiping himself down with a towel. He shakes out his dripping hair and hangs the towel up on the hook to dry.

He strides back into the bedroom stark naked, quickly gathering a pair of briefs and his work uniform in his arms and tugging them over his exposed skin. Louis is snoring softly and he smiles to himself. He makes the cutest noises when he's sleeping yet on the verge of waking up, little crackly squeaks. Harry listens and analyzes them enough that it's begun to verge on creepy. 

Harry skips to the side of the bed, hovering over Louis and pushing his hair back from his face to press a soft kiss to his boyfriend's forehead. His curls hang dangerously close to Louis' nostrils and his nose scrunches and he sniffs and Harry nearly _coos_ because he's so cute.

 "Time to get up, baby," he mutters fondly, ruffling his hair once more before climbing off of him.

Louis groans and rolls onto his stomach, pushing himself up and sitting on his heels with a pout on his lips and eyes half-closed. 

Harry smiles and turns to the dresser, running a comb through his damp hair and grabbing his car keys. He has to be at work early to open the cafe today, but on the bright side it means he'll get off early as well. Maybe he and Louis could cuddle and watch a movie, they haven't done that in a while.

Louis crawls out of bed lazily and approaches his boyfriend, a tired smile on his face as he wraps his arms around the younger boy's waist. His lips are curled over his teeth, the tiniest flash of white revealed on the inside of his mouth. He's bare-chested but had pulled on a pair of Harry's old ratty trainers before he'd fallen asleep the night before, not tempting Harry into anything that might make him late for work. God, they're like horny teenagers lately, can't keep their hands off each other. 

"Mmm, are you leaving?" Louis mutters, breaking the comfortable silence they'd both been basking in. 

Harry leans into him, his stomach fluttering. He nods, jingling his keys in his hand before pressing a few chaste kisses to Louis' lips.

"I should be back by three, try to get off work early so we can do something," he mumbles as he pulls away from the close distance of Louis' face. His lips are still chapped and swollen from the previous night. 

"Alright, baby, love you." Louis hums in his raspy morning voice, pulling away from his boyfriend's lips to stand on the tips of his toes and press a sweet kiss to his forehead.

"Love you, too, I'll call you on lunch break," Harry says, giving Louis' a tight squeeze and one more kiss on the lips before pulling his jacket over his shoulders and regrettably leaving their bedroom on his way to the front door. 

***

When Harry gets home after work he goes straight to the couch and flops down. His muscles have been killing him all day; he has to stop letting Louis try these strangling positions. 

He'd gotten off even earlier than expected; it's only nearing two o'clock when he walks through the door of their flat. He had stopped at the video store on his way home, picking up a couple of films and snacks. He only wants Louis home so they can cuddle and kiss and watch the films he'd bought. Like a real couple, he thinks briefly, but immediately frowns at himself. They are a real couple. 

Harry takes out his phone and sends a text to Louis that he's home and had gotten some movies for them.

Three hours and two yoga videos later, Harry still hasn't received a response and pops in the first of the movies he's gotten without thinking about it. It's normal, Louis isn't allowed to use his phone when he was working unless he's on break. And if he couldn't get off work early, it's fine, Harry'll just have to be patient and entertain himself while he waits. 

By the time another four hours passes and he still hasn't heard from Louis, he's already had dinner and changed into a pair of sweats to sleep in. He's tempted to put on panties or a slip, but Louis is ignoring him for god's sake. 

Harry had burned through all three of the movies he'd bought, still having heard absolutely nothing from Louis. He lays in bed, beyond exhausted, but he's worried sick and can't sleep. He had texted and called Louis numerous times, the messages ignored and every call going straight to voicemail. By nearly ten o'clock Harry is pacing across his bedroom floor as a million unwelcome scenarios force their way into his mind. Is he hurt? Is he ignoring Harry on purpose? Is he angry? Is he _cheating_?

He attempts trying to sleep, but each time he closes his eyes he envisions one horrible image after another. Louis in a wreck, Louis ditching out on him for good, Louis  _with another goddamn person._  

After twenty minutes of fruitless tossing and turning, he finally, finally hears the lock twist and Louis humming about the halls. Relief floods his lungs but he's also beyond pissed, he's been queasy for hours and Louis is singing and skipping about like it's nothing. 

"Where the hell were you?" he asks from the doorway, his previous panic still clear in his voice. His eyes are swollen and hooded and he's absolutely exhausted. The worst part is, Louis doesn't seem to notice his blatant stress. He's getting a damn beer out of the fridge, the most impassive expression crossing his features. Louis looks up just as he closes the fridge and shrugs. He fucking shrugs. 

"I went out with Niall for a few drinks after work," he explains weakly, popping the tab of the can.

"Why didn't you call me? I've been texting you for hours, I was so scared because your phone just kept going straight to voicemail and what if you got hurt or in a crash because the roads are pretty shitty, or what if you were off with some other guy or girl, what if-" Harry rambles before he's cut off by Louis, his words getting more and more frantic he went on.

"You really think I'd cheat on you Harry?" Of course that sets him off. Of course he's allowed to get upset that Harry would say such an unbelievable thing. Harry's in the middle of rolling his eyes when Louis continues and nearly makes hi choke on his spit. "Me? What the fuck were you doing with your life when we met? Fucking anything with legs for a few bucks and you think _I'd_ be the one to cheat?" Louis asks, his voice hard and cold as his grip on the can tightens and crushes the can. Beer sloshes out of the opening and drips down to the floor, carbonation audibly sizzling. 

Harry's mouth falls open and he's speechless. It's not that he doesn't have anything to say. It's that his throat tightens and dries and he is in utter shock at Louis' unbelievable shallowness. As if he was any better at UNI, as if he was better than Harry. As if he still is. He went out all the time back in school, fucking around and getting dirty blowjobs in the toilets. Only difference was that he did it for fun, which made it okay. It wasn't wrong because he wasn't charging. He didn't have to, but Harry, Harry could hardly afford his own education, ended up dropping out anyway, let alone afford the rent for his fucking gritty flat. 

His eyes fill with unwanted tears at Louis' hurtful words, because of course _he's_ the weak one. but he pushes them back. He doesn't want Louis to see that that had actually affected him. 

"How was I supposed to fucking know? You think I wanted to think that?" he screams, his voice thick.

"Do you think in college I wanted everyone to know I was dating the campus slut? Do you know how much shit I got for asking you out, but I did it anyways because I fucking liked you. And when you went and fucked fucking  _Nick_ the first month we were together and everyone told me to just break it off," Louis shouts, and pauses to inhale a breath and Harry thinks he's done. Maybe he'll calm down and add something heartfelt like "but I didn't because I was pretty sure I was in love with you". Harry knows well enough he was smitten for Louis from day one, and never told him Nick came onto him and he had no choice. He figured he didn't have to because Louis forgave him near immediately anyway, and they weren't actually a _thing_ yet so he hadn't thought it was a big deal.

Louis opens his mouth to speak again and his eyes are watering, and Harry definitely expects a heartfelt addition, almost steps forward to pull the tiny, fragile-looking Louis into his arms and-

"Maybe if I had we wouldn't be having the conversation."  

A long, tense silence settles in the air. Harry's breath shifts from almost-normal to shaky and forced. He's bent over the counter, and he feels like he's going to throw up. Suddenly his head snaps up and in a blurred rush of angry adrenaline he slammed his fist into the marble, a loud bang echoing throughout the flat. They've never talked about doing  _it,_ breaking up. Not even when they were angry and confused and fighting all the time. 

He flicks out his wrist in a sudden knee-jerk motion and sends the spice rack toppling to the ground and the powders mixing with one another in a large area on the kitchen floor.

"Then do it now, save yourself for the next time that you decide to stay out and ignore all my messages and calls and then come home and scream about the dirty whore that _I_ am. Do it, break up with me right fucking now," he growls, even the threatening tone in his voice not hiding the extreme hurt behind it. And this time Harry  _really_ expects Louis to sober up and say something, anything, to try and put out the flame of this argument. In fact, he's half-sure that if Louis doesn't turn the tables right now he'll do it himself. The breaking up, that is. Not the apologizing, he's done that too many  _fucking_  times. 

Louis narrows his eyes at the fuming boy, silent because Harry's making a big deal out of nothing. So he didn't answer his phone, who gives a shit. 

"You're too good of a shag to just dump like that," Louis blurts without thinking, taking a step towards Harry.

Harry feels like all the oxygen is immediately extracted from his lungs and he sputters in an attempt to bite back an actual coughing fit. He should have anticipated that; it's exactly something Louis would have said when they were fighting during their Dark Days. Maybe their relationship hasn't changed as much as he thought it had. 

And then he starts crying, he can't help it. He thought Louis was better, he thought  _they_ were better. He backs into the wall, staring at the ceiling as his eyes burn and brim with hot tears. 

"Must've been all that practice," he finally manages to choke out, his back slumped and ugly sobs crawling through his chest and up his dry throat in a painful burning sensation. 

Louis panics when Harry startes to cry. Harry wears his heart on his sleeve at all times but through the years they've been together he's only seen him cry a handful of times, and it's scary, really. It's the worst feeling he's ever felt, seeing his boy cry. He really doesn't know why he had said what he did, he never even considered breaking up with Harry even when that happened all those years ago. He isn't even considering it now, the idea is painful and settles deeply in his stomach like lead. He really, really fucked up just now. 

"Harry-" Louis tries to apologize for his rash behavior, but the crying boy cuts him off with a firm shake of his head.

"No, I'm done Louis. I can't-I just can't do this. Great time _shagging_ you," Harry whispers, and it's not as bitter as he would've liked. He sounds utterly broken. He walks fast out of the room and into the hall, legs quivering and moving on their own accord. He doesn't know how the don't give out underneath him. Why not? Everything else is coming crashing down. He pulls on his coat, hardly able to find the sleeves through his tears. He's pretty sure it's inside out when he does finally manage to get it on, but he can't be bothered to fix it. He toes on his shoes, and his hand lingers on the doorknob. He considers turning back, he  _wants to so bad._ But he can't; he can't be weak like he always has been. 

Louis doesn't even try to stop him despite how much he wants to beg him to stay. He's disgusting, saying all those horrid things straight to his boyfriend's face, and Harry has every right to leave and never come back. He watches as his boyfriend--if Louis can even call him that anymore--grabs his keys and cell phone, walking out the door and slamming it abruptly.

Harry walks quickly to his car, dropping slowly into the driver's seat and trying to jam the key into the ignition though he can't see through the tears falling from cheeks, loads of them swimming to his eyes faster than he can cry them out. He ends up dropping the keys to the car floor, hands shaking and he can't find the fucking ignition through his blurry vision. He takes a shaky breath and leans his head on the steering wheel, a choked sob escaping his lips.

 This wasn't supposed to happen, they were supposed to be happy and start new and have a future together. Harry brings his hands up to grip the steering wheel, so tight his knuckles turn white. His tears fall onto the leather of the wheel, the salty drops sliding down the surface and falling to his lap.

 And he can't help but feel like it's his fault. He was a whore in school and he regrets it more than anything because it made Louis and his relationship harder then it already had to be.

In fact, it's the reason the fighting had ever started. Louis had never wanted to be seen with Harry, all of his friends had looked down on the younger boy and talked shit even though they acted friendly on the rare times that he was around.

That's probably why Louis didn't answer his phone, he didn't want his friend knowing who he was texting. Harry was and is an embarrassment to Louis and they both knew it. The only reason Louis stayed is because Harry always let him do whatever he wanted in bed, just took it for the benefit of them both. 

Harry sobs harder, wanting to drive away but he wouldn't make it ten feet with how blurred his vision is from the endless tears.

Inside the house Louis has yet to move from his spot where Harry had left him, he feels so fucking stupid. Why did he say those things to the boy he loved?

Finally, he moves after not hearing the engine of the car, peeking out the window to see Harry hunched over in the driver's seat, his headlights off and the car not even running.

Louis bites his lip and opens the front door, carefully striding into the driveway where Harry's parked, whole body lurching with sobs that he can hear even from outside the vehicle. He timidly opens the door, and he's afraid to touch Harry. He's afraid that the moment he grazes his knuckles gently across his quivering forearm that rests on the steering wheel, his touch will be fatal and Harry will start and zoom away and never return because Louis' a really fucking horrible person, and a worse boyfriend. He  _deserves_ for his last memory of his beloved Harry to be the exhaust from his shitty Toyota evaporating into the thin air. Panic rising in his throat, he gently trails a single finger down Harry's bicep. He does jump, startled, and his head jerks up from where it's laid in front of him, and  _god_ Louis never, ever wants to see that expression on Harry's cherubic features again. His eyes are glassy and bloodshot, pockets swollen and red underneath his shining irises. His mouth is curved down into a despaired frown and there's a faint red streak smeared across his forehead from where the wheel had been digging into his skin. He looks like he's aged five years, he looks absolutely wrecked and not in the good kind of way, he looks  _scared._  A noise escaped his throat, and when Louis digs an arm underneath his legs and snakes one around his fragile waist to ungracefully drag him from the seat of the car, it's possible that he feels worse than before. Because Harry shouldn't be allowing his care, he should be desperately swatting him away and shouting curses straight in his ear. Instead he's pliant and vulnerable and sniffling in Louis' arms, clutching the collar of his work shirt for dear life as little hiccups escape his throat.

"Shh, baby, it's okay. Everything's going to be okay," Louis whispers, carrying the crying boy inside the house and to their room.

"It's not okay," Harry sobs, tears consistently falling onto the sleeve of Louis' shirt. "I'm so stupid, it's not okay."

Louis resists the urge to hit him, because of course he's blaming himself. The three, maybe four minutes he'd been in the car had been too long. He'd been given too much time to think about it, to mentally hit himself and put himself at fault for the situation. 

"You're not stupid Harry, I shouldn't have said those things. I love you so fucking much, baby." Louis whispers in protest, gently setting Harry onto their bed. He immediately collapses in on himself, attempting to hide his face in the sheets. Louis lifts his chins and cups his face, gently stroking away his incessant tears with his thumb. 

"Do you want to break up with me? If you want to, you should. I'm the worst boyfriend, I don't let you do anything without getting mad. I'm so overprotective, you must hate it. I'm sorry, of you want to break up with me I won't get mad, I'll leave right n-" Harry rambles almost incoherently, his words slurred and thick. Louis cuts him off by pressing their lips firmly together, his thumbs stroking Harry's cheek bones.

"I'm not going to break up with you. I love you more than anything, Harry. Please stop talking like that," Louis pleads, pressing his forehead against Harry's. He never wants to hear the words 'breaking up' in context ever again. His stomach churns at the thought, and he again shames himself for spitting out such awful things at this boy whom his loves so, so much. 

Harry's eyebrows knit together, his lips molding into a frown. Tears that Louis hasn't been able to catch with his thumb dribble past his chin and darken the shade of the sheets underneath him.

"But you said all I am is a good shag," he states, voice quivering and hurt flashing through his green irises as the memory flits through his mind. It isn't a guilt trip, he's genuinely confused.

"Oh no, baby, you're so much more than that to me. I - I wasn't thinking when I said that, doll, I love you so much, oh my god. Please, please, baby don't think I meant that. I swear I could never mean that,  _christ,_ I'm so sorry, I love you so fucking much." Louis' the one rambling now, pain rising in his chest. 

They're both silent for a few moments, but it's comfortable and Louis knows, no matter how little a piece of shit like him deserves it, that Harry accepts his weak apology. Harry waits for is tears to dry in the least and his almost unrecognizably hoarse voice to become half-coherent again before he speaks.   

"Are you embarrassed of me?" he asks quietly, his voice small as he plays with a short strand of Louis' hair.

"Of course not baby. I love you more than you could imagine, and I don't give a shit what any stupid fuck thinks. Anyone can see how beautiful you are, and there's nothing, absolutely nothing for me to be ashamed of. Frankly, I don't deserve you. But I love you, I love you so fucking much," Louis promises, his words quivering and and his muscles clenching and unclenching with nerves as he speaks. And he really, really, honest to god does not deserve him. 

"I love you, too," Harry whispers, pressing his lips to Louis' temple softly.

"How about we both take tomorrow off and have a Louis and Harry day?" Louis suggests, still stroking away at Harry's soft cheekbones. 

A grin sneaks onto Harry's puffy, wet lips. "Can we go out to breakfast?" he asks excitedly. They don't go out often, mostly because all the money that doesn't go towards their bills, groceries, and household items is spent on their sex life.

"Anything you want, baby." Louis nods, kissing the younger boy softly on the lips.

Harry yanks him back down when he tries to pull away, more firmly pressing their lips together.

Louis cups Harry's face with both hands, spilling every ounce of love and passion that he beholds into the kiss, which takes quite some energy because it's a fucking lot. 

Harry doesn't let Louis pull away until he's absolutely gasping for air, and even when he does he's still clutching his neck so his face hovers merely an inch from Harry's. They both take a moment to catch their breath, exhaling hot air onto each other's swollen lips. 

"I love you, baby," Louis whispers, brushing away a stray tear that escapes the corner of Harry's glassy eye. 

"I love you more than anything," Harry whispers back, his voice hoarse. And he does, he'd fight to keep this relationship until the day he died.

Louis smiles and closes his eyes, sighing deeply because everything's going to be okay. They both need to grow up a little, and they'll grow up without growing out of each other like a pair of old tattered jeans. They'll grow up together, in fact, they'll fight this lifelong war until they've molded into one another, until they're beaten and tattered and scarred but still endlessly sewn into the same person as an unbreakable bond of love. Harry's worth it, he thinks, Harry's worth the grenade explosions in his chest and the eternal war strategies swimming around his brain and the leathery battle scar tissue slowly replacing his heart. He's worth it all. He really, really is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so there it is. me and sophie actually wrote this over the course of probably two weeks,and honestly it was months ago around february or something. but editing is a bitch and school is a bitch and just. ah. anywayy,i hope you enjoyed it !! most of the inspiration credit should probably go to the song one more night by maroon 5 because this originally began as a one-part thing full of fighting and angry sex,not all this sad angsty lovey shit that this monster of a fic has turned into. but i hope it was as much fun to read as it was to write,goodbye for now !! :D


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